


Vent(i)

by sidewinder



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Froday Flash Fiction Challenge, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 20:26:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6093043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidewinder/pseuds/sidewinder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who knew coffee could be so controversial?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vent(i)

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Froday Flash Fiction Challenge #16.07: "Vent". Characters are property of NBC/Dick Wolf. This story was written purely for fun and not for profit.
> 
> There is a small reference within to my previous story, [Lover's Day](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5754730/chapters/13259611), but nothing so specific that you'd need to read that first to understand this one. They merely exist in the same fic "universe".

“How many more hours to go?” John asked, stretching his back as they got out of the car.

“About three and we should be in Columbus,” Fin answered, glad to be out of a moving vehicle and on his feet for a few minutes as well. They’d been driving for almost six hours already, most of that time along the Pennsylvania Turnpike as they headed to Ohio to pick up a fugitive. A scumbag they’d collared for a series of rapes near Hudson University had jumped bail, only to be caught in Columbus several weeks later on an OVI charge. With extradition papers in place, now they just had to bring the moron back to New York and they could finally, hopefully, put this case to bed.

“I hate long car rides,” John said—for far from the first time—as they walked to the service plaza entrance. Even late at night, the rest area remained busy with weary travelers, some walking their dogs around the parking lot, others lingering outside for a smoke or a stretch. “Will you let me drive the last leg?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re bad enough as a back seat driver. Don’t need you behind the wheel for the next few hours.”

“You’re going to make me puke the way you take these winding turns, Fin. You want to deal with _that_ for the rest of the night?”

“No, and you need to chill out. We’re almost at the Ohio border. It’s all boring, flat road from there on out anyway.” Fin liked to be the one behind the wheel, no matter how much John complained. John drove way too slow for Fin’s taste, blaming his susceptibility to motion sickness. And John always swore he knew some “short cut” that ended up taking them far more time than if they stuck to the route suggested by the GPS.

Fin had long ago decided that when they finally saved up enough personal time for a long vacation trip, they were flying, _not_ driving there. Or maybe they’d take a cruise. There was no way he was going to deal with John bitching about his driving on his well-deserved time off. “I gotta take a leak and then get some coffee,” Fin said.

“Right behind you.”

* * *

“Looks like we’re stuck with Starbucks.” John clearly appeared unhappy about that fact, as they scanned the meager offerings still open at this late hour.

“What’s wrong with—wait, don’t answer that,” Fin stopped himself from finishing his question as they approached the counter.

“Hello, how may I help you this evening?” the barista asked in a voice far too cheery for their current surroundings.

Fin debated before ordering. “Uh...Venti White Chocolate Mocha with whipped cream, please.”

“Are you two together?”

“Unfortunately,” Fin muttered under his breath.

“And for you sir?” she said to John.

“Large Americano, extra shot of espresso.”

“Do you mean you’d like a Grande, or a Venti?”

“I want a _large_. As in small, medium...I assume you are familiar with what comes next or am I required to order my drink using your company’s manipulative terminology?”

“He wants a Grande,” Fin interrupted, hoping to cut off _that_ particular rant.

The barista looked greatly relieved. “May I have your names?”

“Fin.”

“Bernard,” John said with a completely straight face. Fin paid for their drinks and they stepped back to wait for their order to be ready.

_“Bernard?”_

“I refuse to give my real name simply to order a cup of coffee. What does Starbucks need that information for, anyway? Do you see a great crowd of people here all waiting for their beverages, likely to mistake my Americano for their diabetes-inducing sugar bomb of a drink, like yours? Am I here to strike up a close, personal relationship with some barista on the turnpike I will never encounter again in my lifetime? No. It’s an invasive corporate policy designed to induce a false sense of familiarity, a pretense of friendship that’s nothing but a sneaky, commercial play for higher sales revenue.”

“I should have made you order a decaf.”

“I’m not even going to discuss the privacy concerns their ridiculous name policy raises.”

“Thank you for that small favor.”

“Venti White Chocolate for Fin, Grande Americano for Bernard,” the barista called a few minutes later.

“Maybe I should start using ‘John’ as _my_ name when we order coffee together, just to fuck with you.” Fin grabbed a few napkins for the car as John fixed his drink. “So why do you use your brother’s name?”

“Because I’m accustomed to hearing it shouted out in my general direction after a childhood of punch-ups and general misbehavior.”

“That makes about as much sense as anything you’ve said tonight.”

Once they left the building, John nodded at the drink in Fin’s hand and said, “Do you realize how many calories are in that thing?”

“If I let you drive the rest of the trip will you please shut up?”

“I’m merely making an observation, Fin. Looking out for your general health and well-being. But if you’re offering...”

“Here.” Fin reached in his coat pocket and handed John his keys. “With you behind the wheel I’ll probably get a good nap in before we make it to Colombus.”

“But at least we’ll arrive there in one piece.” John’s smug smile might have annoyed Fin, if he didn’t follow it with a familiar wink that always cooled Fin’s ire and a softer, “Thank you.”

Fin put his cup down on the hood of the car and reached up to tug at John’s scarf with both hands, pulling him closer. Technically it was Fin’s scarf, borrowed long ago and never returned, but Fin didn’t mind. Every time John wore it, Fin remembered the events that had brought about its exchange, that moment in time when they’d gone from being friends and co-workers to something so much more. “Just make sure we get to Columbus with enough time to grab a motel room for a few hours...and maybe we’ll see about burning off those calories before the trip home.”

John favored Fin with a quick kiss and promised, “With that in mind, I shall drive like the wind.”

 


End file.
